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Journal: |
I was ready to leave by 7:30am and had the (very poor) hostel
English breakfast before saying my goodbyes to Karen and Gay and
hitting the trail and walking down through Hawes. Keith, whose
bus didn't leave until 11am, accompanied me for the first couple of
kilometres before we said our goodbyes and he headed back to the
hostel.
The weather was hazy and overcast, but dry, as I began the long
climb up Great Shunner Fell (716m). There were already a
couple of hikers on the Pennine Way and, determined to maintain a
good pace, I began to catch them from behind. One of them, who
turned out to be Yorkshire farmer out for a walk with no gear,
latched on to me and asked whether he could walk with me. He
seemed a little odd, but I agreed and he turned out to be fine and
very interested in my hike. He had a broad accent and it was
like talking to Geoffrey Boycott for the 90 minutes it took us to
reach the peak, during which he answered all my questions about
farming in the area. He then returned the way we had come and
I continued on at a good pace. Although it was a long climb,
it was rarely steep. The views were impressive, but marred by
the haze, with high fells in all directions.
The path then descended gradually to the very small village of
Thwaite, along stone-walled lanes, past ancient farms. Then
there was a steep climb to a narrow rocky path which followed the
contours of a steep-sided valley with more good views and plenty of
day hikers. I passed by the village of Keld and a beautiful
waterfall before climbing solidly up onto another moor. It
began spitting with rain which soon became a steady drizzle. I
was hoping to get to the Tan Hill Inn (the highest pub in England)
before they stopped serving lunch, but didn't know exactly how far
it was. It finally loomed out of the fog and drizzle around
2:15pm, and was an oasis for many people hiding from the weather.
They had a big fire going in the hearth and it was busy. I
decided, given I still had a long way to go to my booked B&B at
Clove Lodge, to just order soup and a roll in the hope that it
didn't take too long. Wrong. Anyway, I finally got
walking again around 3pm in the continuing rain and fog, this time
across spongy and boggy moorland, although apparently it's much
drier this year than usual.
The weather was appropriate for a lonely moor and I didn't see
any other walkers for the rest of the day. Despite the wet
conditions, I still was able to maintain a good pace, though my left
heel was becoming a bit tender, like it was bruised. I was
pleased with how strong I felt as I hurried across the bleak moor,
and didn't feel too tired at all. Just as well, because I have
another long day tomorrow.
I finally reached Clove Lodge, an isolated farm, just after
6:30pm and was greeted by the friendly host who quickly made me a
cup of coffee as I took my sodden boots off, and then left me to
shower in the ensuite room. He gave me a very nice
three-course dinner at 7:15pm, though £18 still seemed a bit rich.
More rain is forecast tomorrow, but I'm told the path is
reasonable and, with luck I'll make my target of Dufton, which will
put me back on schedule.
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